A Love History
by PhoenixflIight
Summary: I've been remembering... us... how everything started. So I'm writing it down. This is how Hermione and I started loving each other.


I want to tell you how I met my beautiful wife, the one that's sleeping right next to me in bed. She's snoring a little bit, but I don't tell her that. I don't mind her little snores anyway, they remind me she's here, sleeping, safe.

It reminds me the war is over and we both lived, a little bit worse for wear, a little bruised and definitely marked, but alive, hearts beating, lungs breathing. Here. Present.

Whenever some darkness seeps into my dreams, I hear her snores and I'm able to calm down.

The past week I've been stuck in a loop of remembering our shared lives. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it so I'm writing it all down to try to get it out of my system.

This is the story of how I met my wife.

I didn't meet Hermione on the train. I'd fallen asleep over a book. Apparently she did pass my carriage, but she hadn't wanted to wake me.

When she got sorted, I saw her, but we didn't speak so that doesn't count. I applauded her when she was sorted into Gryffindor but I clapped for all the students. Hufflepuff was where I ended up. The Sorting Hat didn't whisper anything in my ear about soulmates or adventures that were waiting in my future.

No, our first meeting was in the library. A big part of this story plays of there. From the start I noticed she was a diligent studier, just like me. When we first spoke, I approached her. She looked very busy so I waited in front of her until I saw she finished writing.

"Hi, sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I borrow that book for a minute? I'd like to check if I wrote down the correct page in my sources."

Hermione looked like a deer in headlights. She hadn't even noticed me standing in front of her table for a good five minutes. When she didn't respond, I proposed to stay at her table, so she could keep the book.

"Yes, yes! Of course. Go ahead." She was blushing. Hermione had and still has the cutest blush.

I pulled out a chair and sat down. I'm not sure but I think my essay was for Transfiguration, something about the proportions of different metals. Fascinating stuff, really. When I checked the pages, I had them correct by the way, I looked at all the books she had surrounding her. Namely all the books for the Herbology paper I wanted to write were on her table.

So I proposed something that would propel and cement our friendship. I asked to be study partners. For a moment she looked suspicious, accounting to her youth where others had taken advantage of her kindness.

"I'm not asking you to do the work for me, I promise. I would never do that", I said. "But we could study together and bounce ideas off of each other, or check each other's work. I see you in the library all the time and you know, I thought it might be nice."

I was only eleven, I was a nerdy child, a partnership seemed like an amazing friendship. Don't get me wrong, I was never particularly bullied and got along with most people just fine, but it never went any deeper than that.

"You won't ask me to do your work?" To this day it still breaks my heart the way she asked me that. It was so vulnerable.

I promised and something in my gaze must have reassured her because she held out her ink stained hand and said: "My name's Hermione, I'd love to have a study partner."

"My name is Sofia, pleased to officially meet you."

Her parents showed me the letter she wrote them after we met. She sounded so happy. They told me they'd never been so relieved. I framed that letter and I put it on my desk in my office. It lifts my spirits every time I look at it.

The first two weeks of our partnership, she was hesitant, sometimes still believing I would get what I wanted and leave. Every time I saw that glint in her eye or the sag of her shoulder I would set her straight. We were friends, easy as pie. After that she understood I wasn't going anywhere. Hermione started to open up and I got to know her better. She also showed me her wicked sense of humor.

Then the troll incident happened.

I had no idea she was involved until the next day around breakfast time when I heard other students of her house gossip about it. I approached them and demanded to know what had happened. It must have been quite a sight, a little firstie stomping her feet and demanding something from fifth year Gryffindors. I don't think I ever ran so fast. They told me she was still at the Hospital Wing. She was the only one there, Potter and Weasley had been sent out.

Hermione was still sleeping when I arrived so I sat down beside her until she woke up. Madam Pomphrey told me Hermione had to stay the day because of her broken rib.

She told me the entire story, even the part where Weasley had said mean things about her and something about not having friends. I had to point out that he'd been wrong. She did have friends, she had me. She had realized that too, but when she wiped away her tears that night, the troll had come in.

I didn't understand why she'd lied to Professor McGonagall, still don't actually. At the time I desperately wanted to give Weasley a tongue lashing for talking about her that way but Hermione asked me not to. That time I listened to her, but a few years later I did get my chance. It still makes me feel warm inside.

We settled back into our rhythm after that. Weasley and Potter even joined us one night in the library. When Hermione and I started a discussion about Magical Theory we had seen in Professor Flitwick's class they gawped. I think they underestimated just how much we studied. A fourth year Hufflepuff who was sitting a few tables away briefly joined our discussion, even involving a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw. That was a beautiful moment of InterHouse Unity. Weasley and Potter didn't contribute to the conversation, but they kept quiet, which was good enough.

I know now they are good men, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten how much shit they gave my wife during our school years or how much danger they put her in. So I tend to be critical of their behavior.

I'd rather not go into detail about their stunt at the end of First Year, just that I bursted out in angry tears at her bedside, yelling that next time she pulled something like that to at least tell me. I won't say how long I ended up crying or that Madam Pomphrey gave me a Calming Draught because I ended up hyperventilating.

Hermione, clever cookie, ended up the first in our year. I ended up third. Surprisingly Draco Malfoy was second. I wrote him a note to congratulate him. If I had known he'd been bullying Hermione, I wouldn't have done it. He did write me back to thank me. Looking back on it now, those little letters were probably why he never bullied me or Hermione when she was with me.

During the summer, Hermione and I visited each other every other week. It was a simple train ride of about an hour. Her parents would pick me up from the station and my aunt and I would pick Hermione up.

My mom was bedridden that summer. She had severe bouts of depression that would keep her in bed for weeks at a time. It started when my father died, I was seven at the time. He was a muggle police officer. My mom was a witch. My aunt moved in a month after he passed. Auntie had popped in for a visit and she'd seen me getting a microwave dinner from the freezer. At the time my mom hadn't left the bed since the funeral. I'd been eating those dinners for a month. I cried when Auntie cooked a real meal for me.

I told Hermione that story when she came over and she cried for me. At that moment I knew I would fight the world for her.

Second year is still a sore topic. My heart still clenches painfully when I think about her, petrified in that white hospital bed again. I visited her three evenings a week, reading our textbooks to her. Madam Pomphrey said she could hear everything so I figured she'd be grateful to keep up with learning.

That year I got to know Luna and Ginny.

One evening I was walking out of the Hospital Wing when I saw Luna barefoot. I transfigured my gloves to socks so she had something to keep her feet warm. Then I brought her to the kitchens for hot chocolate to warm up. She talked about Nargles stealing her stuff. I asked her if she wanted to join the study group. And she did. Sometimes she didn't really make a lot of sense, but Luna took to Magical Theory like a fish to water, looking straight at the essence instead of the frivolous mess surrounding it.

I think those months with Luna, I must have talked her ear off about Hermione. I'm forever grateful to her because I'm not sure if I could've handled that stressful time without her.

Luna introduced me to Ginny and we shared worried looks when she kept getting paler. Sometimes she'd fall asleep during study time and then Luna and I would just work quietly, not wanting to wake her up.

I was outside, taking a walk around the lake, quietly saying goodbye to Hogwarts, when I heard my Hermione shout my name. At first I thought I was dreaming, but then she ran towards me and I started running towards her and we ended up in a tangled mess on the soft grass. Giggles and laughter in the air.

"You're awake! Hermione! I missed you so much!" I shouted.

She straightened us out until we lay on our sides, facing each other.

"I heard you visit every time. You have no idea how hard it was not to be able to talk to you. But," she paused, "thank you for reading to me." Hermione took my hand.

That was the first time she did that. We lay like that until it was time for the feast. I still remember it as a glorious day.

That summer my mother declined a lot, she became unresponsive and my aunt wanted me to visit Hermione as much as I could, not wanting me to see my mom like that too much.

I joined Hermione and her parents on their holiday to France. We shared a room and I helped her catch up on the stuff she missed when she was petrified.

At night though, our demons came to face us.

The anxiety and sadness was overwhelming for me and Hermione held me. More often than not we'd wake up intertwined. We didn't think anything of it at the time. We just found it natural.

Hermione's nightmares about the yellow stare of the basilisk kept us up. Then I held her and made up stories about everything and nothing.

We helped each other a lot that summer.

Third year we continued our study group, joined by Luna and Ginny and eventually Neville. Hermione felt bad for him but he ended up becoming a true friend. His gentle nature fit ours a lot.

Then at one point Daphne Greengrass and Susan Bones joined us too. Daphne and I met in Ancient Runes. We had a group project and despite a somewhat cold exterior, she's really nice. Susan started out studying with us because she had some trouble with Charms, but ended up staying after she caught up.

We had an odd little group, but academically we all clicked and eventually became lifelong friends. We still go to the pub together every other Sunday.

Hermione had told me about the time turner the summer before. I thought she was crazy but I did understand her thirst for knowledge, so I helped her any way I could. On the fifth floor I found an abandoned classroom where I forced her to take naps when she was pushing herself too hard.

One day I was walking in the halls. I tended to wander whenever I got an update about my mom's health from my Auntie. Crookshanks, Hermione's adorable cat and a big black dog were coming in my direction. That was before the incident with the Fat Lady. I knew something was strange, because dogs aren't allowed in Hogwarts.

I pet Crookshanks and then I pet the dog, telling him not to be jealous. Thinking out loud, I figured out that the dog was Sirius Black, escaped fugitive, godfather of Potter, but obviously the Kneazle trusted him, which made me not run the other way and call for help. I hid them in the nap classroom and went to get Hermione.

For a while we hid him there, getting food from the kitchens, until one day Dumbledore of all people found out. Before that day I'd never even talked to the Headmaster, but I don't think he expected Hermione and I to be quite so critical of him. I'd talked to Sirius about his trial, or lack thereof. Hermione and I were both understandably horrified.

Anyways, Dumbledore took care of Sirius and I didn't see him again until the summer. Potter didn't understand how we kept something so big a secret for so long. I told him: "I'm a Hufflepuff, no one cares what I do."

Three days later my mother passed away and I returned home. Hermione joined me and I'm forever in her debt for that. I was quite broken and she carried me until I was able to put myself back together.

Now, this is a love story, not some depressing memoir.

Things changed in Fourth Year.

No, the ball wasn't the moment where I figured out I loved her, or rather was in love with Hermione. But I did finally gave Weasley and Potter their well-deserved tongue lashing.

Weasley was shouting something about the enemy and I stepped in between them, pushing Hermione behind me. My wand touched the tip of his nose. I backed him against the wall, my voice flat I told him he was being an idiot and that he didn't deserve her friendship. I might have said it a bit more colorful. I told Potter that if he was her friend he would stand up for her once in a while. Their abandonment the year before over the stupid broom, still fresh in my mind.

When they looked appropriately cowed and ashamed, I dragged Hermione back onto the dance floor. Krum, Hermione's date and Rolf, my Durmstrang date were talking to each other at the Refreshments table. Idiots.

The music changed to a slow song and instead of getting our dates, I just took her in my arms. It didn't feel strange at all. It just felt nice. Her head was laying on my shoulder, her breath tickling my neck. She sniffled a few times but beyond that, she didn't cry. When the song finished she gave me the widest smile. Her 'thank you' to me.

Potter popped up behind us to ask Hermione to dance with him. He held up his hands in surrender when he saw me look suspiciously at him. She danced with him and he apologized, for a lot.

I joined Neville and the girls at their table, asking how they were. That was when Ginny told me I had looked really, really scary. I told her I took care of everyone I considered a friend.

Hermione joined us after her dance with Potter and the entire study group went outside to go for a walk and take a group picture. It was one of the loveliest balls I have ever been to. That was one of the last evenings where Voldemort was just a whisper, not fact.

A week or two after the ball, Hermione and I were doing some casual reading in the nap class room when I desperately wanted to kiss her. The desire didn't exactly come from nothing, but it was still sudden enough to surprise me. Hermione hadn't dressed up or done her hair, she looked like she always did. She was wearing her uniform, the cloak on a chair somewhere. Her crazy hair in a ponytail that was starting to unravel. She was engrossed in her book, fiction for a change, she was grinning because of something she just read. And all of that was enough for me, to make her the most beautiful person that I'd ever seen.

I knew I was staring but I couldn't help myself. She noticed after a while.

"Are you alright," she asked me.  
"I am." And then the right way to kiss her popped into my mind. "Hermione, I want to ask you something. I was wondering if you would like to help me with an experiment."  
Hermione was intrigued and closed her book.  
"You can say no, of course. I won't hold it against you. Anyways, I know we both kissed Rolf and Viktor at the ball, or more like Rolf suddenly pushed his lips against my lips when I wasn't expecting it, but that's beside the point right now. I was wondering if you would be ok with us kissing each other. As a test, you see. We have both kissed boys and I'm curious to see if kissing a girl is the same."

It sound completely horrible and not subtle as I had hoped it would be. But I was really nervous, I didn't want to damage our friendship in any way, but at the same time I really hoped for something more.

"You want to kiss me? As an experiment?" she eventually asked. I could see she was really considering it.

"Yes, but only if you would be okay with that. And if we decide we don't like it, it won't hurt our friendship."

She tilted her head in a way that only she does and started biting her lip.

I thought she was going to drive me mad before I even kissed her.

"What are we going to do if we like kissing each other?" Hermione asked.

"Kiss more often? I don't know, Hermione. But why don't we think about that after the kissing?"

"Alright, let's kiss."

For a few seconds all I could do was blink. For some reason I'd never actually considered her agreeing to this harebrained plan. But she did!

So we put our books away and we sat on our knees in front of each other. Because I asked I obviously had to make the first move. I gently put my hands on her cheeks, brushing away a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail. Her eyes fluttered closed and I knew I was on the right track.

Softly I brought our lips together, very briefly, almost like a little bump. Then I kissed her again, this time giving them a soft peck. Her lips were as soft as I had imagined. The third time I kissed her, she kissed me back. Her hands came to rest upon my neck and back, bringing our bodies closer. I could feel tingles all over my body, my breath came out in quicker bursts and our kisses became a little bit more urgent, as if we needed each other like we needed a pulse. That's when our tongues entered the situation. Hermione tasted like the hot chocolate she'd been sipping before and I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. A groan escaped me and Hermione's response was to push me even closer. She started peppering kisses on my cheeks and neck and I gave a god honest moan that shocked even me.

We watched each other for a second, gaging the other's reaction. Our bodies still pressed together, I could feel her breath coming in short gasps. It sounded like we had both run a marathon. I'm also pretty sure we were both blushing like crazy.

Then Hermione got a glint in her eye that looked like trouble. "I'm pretty sure that with any experiment we need several tries to see if we got it right."

I chuckled but agreed as any true scientist would.

We spent the entire evening, skipping dinner, but feasting on each other's lips.

Two hours later, with our hair a mess, both missing our shirts and our lips clearly looking like we'd been snogging all evening, we finally talked about what we were planning to do.

We would only tell our Study Group, but beyond that we'd keep it low key until we were more certain about trying the whole relationship.

The Study Group was not surprised. For some reason they'd seen this coming since the beginning of third year. They were all very supportive.

I was with her when she told Potter and Weasley. I was worried Weasley might say some things that would cross a line where you can never come back from. I thought I could scare him enough so he would pay more attention to the words that left his mouth. He spluttered when Hermione told them, but when he saw me hold my wand he shut up and thought for a second, coming up with a pretty decent reaction. Potter was just happy for us.

What surprised me was how little changed. We still studied, we already spent most of our time together, the only thing that was different were the touches and the looks that could catch you off guard but made it very hard to focus on anything else. Hermione is a master in those looks. She enjoys doing it to me, because she's wicked.

But then Voldemort came back and he turned from a whisper to a real and breathing horror.

It surrounded everything in a sense of urgency that we'd never experienced.

Fifth Year was a horrible year.

Umbridge was a pest, especially with those god awful quills. Hermione and I had a shared detention with her once, because she'd caught us after curfew. I think we both shed more tears because we saw each other in pain than for the pain we were feeling ourselves.

Then that battle at the Ministry. My Hermione almost died.

That moment is my boggart, only then she doesn't wake up.

Hermione and I discovered that when we were cleaning out this house we bought together. I can't write about the battle, without feeling anxious.

Hermione is laying in our bed, she just snuggled closer to me. She's basically a koala around my leg right now. My lovely, beautiful, genius Hermione.

I know it isn't right, but a part of me still blames Potter for what happened.

The horrible year, ended the only way it could, with a disaster.

Sixth Year gave us some relative peace, at least in the beginning. We finally had some time for each other again. That's when she started talking about obliviating her parents' memory. I knew her parents and I told her it was a bad idea. That was one of the only times we fought over something. It took a two days before we fell into each other's arms, asking for the other's forgiveness.

We worked on a plan together, one that wouldn't involve erasing their memories, but telling them everything and explaining why they had to leave the country. My Auntie would join them, so she could protect them while at the same time being safe too. She was the only family I had left.

I celebrated her decision by licking her until she came on my tongue. It was the first time I'd done that. But from the sound of her moans, I knew I'd discovered the jackpot.

After that I spent the rest of the year, trying to memorize her body by heart. I wanted to figure out every sensitive place, everything she liked. Hermione didn't complain, in fact she even returned the favor.

One time we fell asleep in the nap classroom after a pretty spectacular evening of discovery. We woke the other up a few times that night for another round. That night we were insatiable. Never getting enough. There was always more skin to caress or another place to lick.

That morning we were both sore but our craving for each other had dimmed somewhat. I do think I remember making Hermione come twice before going down for breakfast. Oh yeah, we visited the Prefect Bathroom to wash up.

I think we both had smug grins the entire day.

A month or two later the Headmaster was killed and the slight presence of relative peace evaporated. We had a real talk about what was going to happen. And even though I didn't like it one bit, I couldn't stop her from going with Potter and Weasley. I knew that and I knew she would never forgive me if I gave her an ultimatum, so I didn't. But I helped her plan out everything and I knew about the horcruxes, she didn't keep any secrets from me. And that brought me some peace.

I spent two weeks at the Burrow and we slept together in the same bed every night. No one had thought to inform Mrs. Weasley about our relationship. Ginny snuck out to Potter's bed a few times.

Fleur and Bill's wedding was the second time I could hold Hermione and dance with her. Only this time it had a more desperate undertone because we both knew the end was coming.

A few moments later she disapparated with Potter and Weasley and I went along with Luna.

I didn't sleep that night. I watched the dark mark float menacingly above the destroyed Burrow.

I went back to school, together with Luna. The first few months passed in a blur of anxiety and rising rebellion and torture. The Carrows were a kind of their own.

I did figure out Professor Snape was not the enemy. He gave us potions to help with the tremors. The Carrows liked the Cruciatus Curse, but they also enjoyed the slicing charm.

In the first few years at Hogwarts, the only time I was in the Hospital Wing was to visit Hermione, but that year I had to go there for myself. It was disconcerting. I befriended Madam Pomphrey though.

Neville and I became the leaders of the Rebellion at Hogwarts. We protected the younger years and we agreed to take in any Slytherin. Daphne Greengrass helped us make those choices. We had students of every years and every House hiding in the Common Room.

Luna and I were in Hogsmeade when she was grabbed. I fought them, I did. I gave it all I got, but they managed to hex me in the face, resulting in the scar I still have. The scar goes from my hairline at my right ear, across my cheek, all the way down to my chin. It's not pretty, still isn't after all those years. Professor Flitwick was the one to find me, unconscious, bleeding in the snow. He'd heard the ruckus, but even he had been too late.

That took a toll on me. I got angry, angry like I'd never been. It was a quiet and intense burn inside of me and I'm sure I scared some of the first years when my gaze landed on them by accident. It took some help but I finally took that anger and put it in my training.

Then one day, Neville walked through the portrait and he came out with my Hermione.

I sunk down on my knees and started bawling. Hermione rushed to my side and started kissing my entire face, laughing and crying at the same time. She reassured me she was really there and that she was okay.

After a while, I got more coherent and noticed how dangerously thin she was, how pale, how she had a bandage wrapped around her arm. I noticed the tremor of her fingers, an after symptom of the Cruciatus that takes months to go away.

The anger came back. "Who hurt you?" I grabbed her shoulders, demanding to know who did this to her.

"Bellatrix LeStrange", she finally answered.

All I did was nod, but we both understood that if I saw her I would throw everything I had at her. She had to die.

"Who hurt you?" She asked me, putting her hand on my scarred cheek.

"Dolohov", I told her.

Then she went off again with Weasley, to get the Basilisk fangs. I took my Study Group and we headed into battle.

I didn't manage to kill Bellatrix, but I did manage to send a cutting hex that cut off her hair. She was furious, but then Mrs. Weasley fought like the mama bear she is and took her down.

In the end, we were victorious. My entire Study Group survived. My Hermione survived.

The first week after the battle Hermione and I holed ourselves up in my childhood home. We didn't leave it. We spent the time eating ,sleeping and getting reacquainted with each other's bodies. Crying salty tears over each new scar. We shared our stories, left nothing untold.

Hermione's parents and my Auntie moved back to England. Hermione and I got our own little place though, unwilling to be apart from each other again.

Hogwarts reopened and Hermione and I went back daily, sleeping in our own apartment. The ghosts of Hogwarts too numerous to spend the nights there. We graduated with top marks though.

We spent a lot of time traveling together, settled in Canada for a few years, studying at Wizarding Uni. Then we moved back to England and opened our own Consultant and Research Office. We helped make new legislation. We help make new textbooks for Hogwarts and other wizarding schools. All at our own terms.

Twenty years has passed since the Last Battle, maybe that's why my mind has been stuck there.

"Love, what are you doing?" Hermione asks me hoarsely.

"I just wrote down our history."

Hermione hums sleepily, walking her fingers up the leg she's wrapped around. "Really," she teases, "did you write down any good details?"

I chuckle, "I did write about that one spectacular night we had in our classroom. Remember that?" I put the notebook on the bedside table and focus on my lovely wife. I pull her off my leg and lay down on top of her. "Why don't I show you just how I remember it?" I say teasing her with kisses down her nipples and down her tummy.

"Oooh, please do." Hermione moans.


End file.
